A Wizards War
by Shinju90
Summary: Arthur Kirkland's magic has always been a bit wonky. After all, he never had anyone to teach him how!  But after a careless joke by another nation he sets off to learn. Full Summary inside. Mentions of FrUK and UK/SS AU after GoF.
1. Prologue

**Full Summary**: Arthur Kirkland's magic has always been a bit wonky. After all, he never had anyone to teach him how! But after a careless joke by another nation he sets off to learn. Arthur heads to Hogwarts ready to brush up on his magic while teaching a Muggle Studies class on the side. But unknown to Arthur, the Wizarding World is again heading towards a war, that he is about to find himself dragged into.

**Pairings**: Mentions of past FrUK, UK/SS

**Prologue**

"I swear England, you couldn't curse your way out of a paper bag!"

Raising his head slightly to see the laughing man over his mug Arthur Kirkland glared heatedly. His eyebrows furrowed together and he lifted his chin off the table to better see Denmark. All three of him.

"Wot the 'ell is that supposed to mean ya bloody wanka? I'll have you know that I am damn good at a shit load of spells!" He waved his finger threateningly at the one who seemed to be the most solid of the Denmark's. Though he couldn't quite be sure, the one on the left seemed to be merging together with Germany. Beside his younger brother Prussia cackled, lifting his mug for Gilbird to take a sip of his beer.

"Who are you trying to kid England? I remember one time," he hiccupped in unison with his bird. Arthur and the others stared momentarily, breaking the conversation. Were birds capable of getting hiccups? Prussia blinked for a moment, trying to remember what he had been saying. "I remember this one time, during America's revolution. You tried to curse his militia and instead you transfigured all of your guns and cannons into butterflies!" Another wave of hysterical laughter rose from the table. Denmark was wiping tears from his eyes. Beside his brother Germany released a very uncharacteristic giggle. Arthur's lips were drawn into a taunt line as he tightened his grip on the wand in his jacket sleeve.

Oh he wanted to curse the bastards! Turn them all into toads or flubberworms or something! But he knew the second he drew the star topped wand everyone at the table would probably kill themselves laughing. And none of them were drunk enough to forget that they had seen it. So instead he did the next best thing and took another long draw of his beer, slamming the mug back down onto the tabletop.

"That day was a fluke! I was distracted and under a lot of stress at the time. Stuff like that really interferes with the success of a spell."

Denmark snorted into his mug. "It's not so much stress as a ability. Damn England! All Nations have an abundance of magical potential. I don't think we would be what we are if we didn't. But I think Norway is one of the few who have ever successfully done anything with it." He emptied the mug, shaking it a few times over his gaping mouth to make sure it was really empty before continuing. "You should really give it up. You are going to end up hurting yourself someday. Or worse, you might hurt one of us!"

Another round of laughter rose from around the table but this time it was accompanied by nods and voices of agreement. Arthur felt his temper flaring. "You damn Danish bastard! If it's anyone's fault that my magic is a bit wonky it would be yours!" He rose to his full height, knocking over his chair and several other pub patrons in the process. "Right at the time I was supposed to start at Hogwarts was the year your damn Heathen Army invaded!" His voice was rising and out of the corner of his eye he saw a bouncer making his way towards them. The others held their sides, howling with laughter as he was dragged towards the door, kicking and screaming curse words at the top of his lungs. Denmark stood, raising his recently filled mug in a salute and calling.

"Well if it's that big of a problem then why don't you take your ass down to that stupid school and learn something!"

As the bouncer pushed open the door and tossed him out on his ass, none of the others saw the amazed look of realization that flashed across England's face as he hit the cobblestone street. Standing he brushed the dirt from his trousers, chuckling darkly. If any of them realized what plans were quickly forming from the Dane's joke he had no doubt that they would have quickly followed after him, attempting to change his mind. But as he staggered down the cobblestone street in the direction of his home none followed him and the short man was left by himself to scheme the whole way home.

* * *

**AN**: I started writing this when the plot bunny hopped into my head. I'm usually not a big fan of crossovers, but Hetalia and Harry Potter are my two great loves XD

Due to the fact that I have several other fics in the works, including my NaNo story that I have yet to finish. Updates with be extremely irregular.


	2. Diagon Alley

**Chapter One**

The streets of London were humming with life as citizens and tourists made their way across the English capital. Arthur Kirkland didn't resist the wide smile that spread across his face as he walked among his people. And why would he? It was an unusually beautiful day over London, his people were happy and Arthur was going to Hogwarts!

He passed by a large bookshop, stopping just outside the door of an ancient looking pub. His people walked on past, their eyes sliding right over the rustic door and sign to the record store next door. But Arthur could see it and that was all that mattered. After all, he could see it and that clearly was proof that he was a wizard.

The door creaked loudly as he entered, instantly drawing all eyes towards him. He flushed slightly, extremely out of place in his military uniform. A trio of warty witches smoking in the corner immediately began whispering and pointing as a few wizards in fine looking robes sneered. Arthur ignored them, nodding politely to the barkeeper, Tom, before disappearing into the small walled courtyard behind the pub.

Embarrassed he drew his wand from his sleeve, glancing around surreptitiously to be sure that no one was lurking around before he counted for the right brick, three up and two across. He quickly tapped it and slipped his wand back into his sleeve. No sense in flashing the damned thing around, his uniform seemed to draw enough negative attention as it was.

He stood back as a tiny black hole appeared in the wall. It wiggled, expanding, and continued to expand outwards until the wall had become a gigantic archway, which Arthur easily passed under. Stepping through he couldn't stop the quiet gasp that escaped from his lips. He hadn't remembered what it felt like, passing through into the wizarding area's of his country. It was like suddenly regaining the use of a limb, even though you had never noticed it missing.

He smiled, stepping out into the street at a leisurely pace, glancing into shop windows when he spotted something interesting. All around him wizards and witches were giving him a wide birth, staring and whispering behind their hands. Arthur sighed, not much that he could do about it, he had searched his home and had found nothing resembling robes. In the end he had just decided to wear what he was most comfortable in.

As he meandered down the streets Arthur's causal glances became more desperate and slowly his smile began to fade. It was the honest truth that Arthur hadn't had much contact with the wizarding world since the second World War. He had known that the wizard Grindelwald was raging a war of his own at the same time, it was a highly debated fact that the muggle war was in fact caused by Grindelwald as a method to achieve his own ends. But he hadn't been expecting such a huge change in the Alley. As he made his way down the street, glancing idly through shop windows, he resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands.

Hadn't the face of London drastically changed after the Battle of Britain? It was foolish of him to think that Wizarding London would be any different after their own war. But surely Gringotts was still the same! Surely it hadn't up and changed locations?

Arthur didn't remember these streets curling in and about and as he wandered down them he felt his face flushing. A nation getting lost in his own capital, the idea was ridiculous! If any of the others found out he would be an even bigger laughingstock than he already was.

Digging his heels into the cobblestone street he set a determined frown upon his face. First he needed to find Gringotts and retrieve some money from his vault. It would also probably be a smart idea to check the value of the coins beforehand, least he withdraw too little. Then he would find a post office and send an owl to Albus Dumbledore. Then, and this errand bought a smile to his face, he would find Ollivanders and purchase himself a new wand! Something that didn't look like a ridiculous muggle toy.

After five minutes of useless searching he angrily threw himself into a chair in front of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and brooded. How hard was it to loose a giant white building? Apparently for him it was quite easy.

"Excuse me sir? I apologize for being a bother but you look like you could use some help."

Arthur blinked, glancing up from his table into the most honest looking set of blue eyes he had ever seen. A middle aged, slightly balding, red haired wizard left the crowed in the street to approach him. He was smiling, the naturally tanned face sprinkled with freckles wrinkling around his eyes and mouth. Finally his eyes were drawn to the sparse hair atop the mans head. What little was there, was a flaming shade of red. This man was a Weasley.

"Do you need help getting somewhere? I'm terribly sorry to presume, but judging from your clothing, it doesn't seem like you come to the Alley much."

Arthur smiled, looking back down at his own clothes. Well at least his standing out had caused _something _good to come his way. He stood, offering a hand to the other man.

"Nothing to be sorry for sir. You are quite correct in your assumption. I haven't been here for several years, since before the war actually, and I'm afraid that it has changed quite a bit in the time."

The mans eyes widened slightly with surprise. But he quickly managed to brush it away. "It has changed quite a lot indeed! There were several large explosions during the war. Almost everything had to be rebuilt." He paused, then looking slightly embarrassed, said. "How impolite of me, walking up and striking up a conversation without introducing myself! My name is Arthur Weasley, I'll be happy to show you anywhere that you would like to go."

Arthur laughed as they made their way back out into the crowd. "What a coincidence! My name is Arthur as well! Arthur Kirkland, it's a pleasure to meet you." The two chuckled companionably as they wandered in no particular direction. Though Arthur was confused to see that sometimes as they passed a person or crowd, Mr. Weasley's arm would clench, no doubt holding tightly to his wand in his pocket. Was he missing something? "I suppose I might need some assistance in finding my way around, if it's not a bother. I supposed that I should head to Gringotts first."

Mr. Weasley stopped, looking rather relieved that they would not have to cross that path of a rather nasty looking crowd of wizards and smiled again as he turned. Arthur felt his spirits lift. He never grew tired of meeting his children, especially when they had such good hearts as Mr. Weasley. "Not to worry Mr. Kirkland, but if Gringotts is our first destination then we will have to turn around."

With Mr. Weasley guiding him Arthur made his way to Gringotts quickly enough. He politely inclined his head to the goblins that bowed them through the huge front doors. Once they were inside several goblins on tall stools waved politely to Mr. Weasley, who whispered as he waved back. "My eldest son Bill works as a curse breaker with Gringotts. The are awfully fond of him and they always go out of their way to be polite to the family."

Nodding, Arthur withdrew his vault key as they approached the counter and handed it to the first available goblin. He took the key and caressed it with a long finger as his bushy eyebrows shot up. Several others were called over to confirm it's validity as Arthur and Mr. Weasley stood in a now uncomfortable silence. The tips of Mr. Weasley's ears were beginning to flush.

After an escort down to the vault was called Arthur quickly followed him through a large side door and into one of the rickety carts the he, unfortunately, remembered all too well. He had invited Mr. Weasley to join him but the man, who had turned a little green in the face, had declined. Instead he decided to await his return on the surface. Arthur settled himself into the cart nervously and held on tight as it shot off into the dark tunnel.

As they whipped around corners the little cart quickly picked up speed until the vault doors they passed were only blurs. Arthur wrapped his arms tightly around the carts handrail, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and attempting to imagine himself in the air, in the cockpit of a Spitfire or a Hurricane with the sky wide and open before him, rather than a small closed in tunnel.

He pried open his eyes when he heard the carts rattling echoing off of the rock walls. They were passing over a deep ravine and he could not help himself but to take a quick look over the edge of the cart. With a cry, that certainly wasn't a squeak, he managed to yank his head back just as a long stream of bright blue fire shot into the air beside them. Ducking his head to hide from the intense heat he quickly brought his hands up to his eyebrows, thankfully they were still there. He glanced back at the fire as they roared away, it seemed like they had a Swedish Short-Snout down there somewhere.

They whipped around a few more corners and down a long drop that would have made Alfred whoop with glee and attempt to replicate it in one of his roller coasters. Eventually the cart began to slow and as it rolled to a stop Arthur sat up, brushing off and straightening his clothes. The goblin jumped out first and Arthur followed, placing his feet cautiously as he stepped out onto the solid rock. Placing his key into the goblins waiting hand he stood back and waiting as he, or she, unlocked the large vault door.

Stepping back, the goblin swung the door open wide and Arthur stepped forward into the large room. Torches on the wall flamed to life and he was mildly surprised by the amount of gold, silver and copper that sparkled in the firelight.

The room was filled with mountains of coins and, stashed away in the corners, trinkets that he hadn't even remembered storing here. He walked slowing into the room, admiring the ancient paintings and weaponry and was glad that Mr. Weasley had declined his invitation. It would have been difficult to explain all of this to him. As he stepped near, the archway to another room lit up and smiling slightly he stepped through.

The scent of saltwater was heavy on the air in this magnificently gigantic cavern, as he looked up he found that he couldn't see the ceiling and for good reason. In the center of the room was a huge pool of salt water and floating in that pool was his beautiful ship of the line, the _Sea Queen_. His smile widened as he took in the sight of her, beautifully preserved, sails as white as clouds. He had forgotten that he had stored her down here, but he would have to retrieve her some other time. Now he turned away, with one last longing glance. Mr. Weasley was waiting for him to return.

He quickly grabbed an expandable dragonhide pouch and, after a quick consultation with the goblin at the door, quickly loaded it with coins. That would be enough to last him for awhile at least. Stepping back outside he watched as the goblin closed up the vault and reluctantly climbed back into the cart. Then, gripping the hand rail tightly, they shot off like a bullet for the surface.

Arthur nodded politely again to the goblins as he stumbled out of the bank. It seemed that Mr. Weasley had stepped outside a moment earlier for a conversation with another man. As he neared them though, Arthur realized it was less of a conversation and more of a screaming match.

The other was tall and thin, with platinum blonde locks that cascaded gracefully down his back. His elegant mouth was set in a sneer, condescending grey eyes glaring down a long, straight nose at the furiously flushing Mr. Weasley. Arthur frowned, picking up his pace as he drew nearer and the argument reached his ears.

"It's a wonder that the goblins let you enter Gringotts, let alone store what little copper pieces that you have there." The man laughed and Mr. Weasley's face was quickly beginning to match the shade of his hair. "I must say that getting that oldest boy in your brood a job there was a magnificent scheme! Now the goblins feel obligated to allow you in!"

"Now see here Malfoy! The Weasley family has always banked at Gringotts, long before they hired Bill!" His hands were shaking, clenched tightly into fists in his sleeves. He glanced sideways at Arthur as he approached, nodding to him in acknowledgement. The blonde man cast his a glance, filled with utter digust over his attire. "Now Malfoy, if you will excuse me. I have more important business to attend to than bickering with you!" He turned to Arthur, ignoring Malfoy's incredulous look. "I apologize for stepping outside like that Mr. Kirkland, but the goblins frown upon bickering in their foyer. Now where did you need to head next?" Arthur smiled, about to assure him that it wasn't a problem and that he would like to head to Ollivanders when he was rudely interrupted.

"Really Arthur? I knew that you liked infesting your own home with muggle trash. But to subject the rest of the wizarding world to them as well? Bringing a muggle into Diagon Alley? Even for you that's going a bit to far!" Mr. Weasley's face flushed all over again and he opened with mouth for a swift retort. But Arthur beat him to it.

"Really Mr. Weasley? I had no idea that you were so interested in muggles! We should have lunch sometime and I will show you around muggle London." He smiled to reassure his new friend before turning on the other. Since he had first spotted him Arthur had been fighting to recognize his face and been unable. But now that he knew the mans name he knew why. "And as for you sir. I will have you know that I am the farthest thing from a muggle that you will ever find." He turned away. "Now Mr. Weasley, let us find something to do with ourselves rather than listening to that damned frog croak." Arthur took his friend by the arm and together they marched away, both elated by the look of shock on Malfoy's handsome face.


	3. Ollivanders

**Chapter Two**

**Ollivanders**

As they rounded the corner Mr. Weasley released a loud infectious laugh that Arthur couldn't help but imitate. He sighed, wiping a hand across his eyes as he looked at the smaller man. "Were you serious about showing me around muggle London? If I could find the time, oh! That would be amazing!" His eyes were shining and Arthur could see that at least some of Malfoy's comment was true.

Arthur Weasley truly loved muggles and muggle things. The nation smiled, he would love to show the accomplishment of the muggle world to Mr. Weasley. It was hard to find a wizard that would actually appreciate them.

"Now, where were you wanting to go next?"

Arthur paused, glancing around the streets. He felt that he was finally beginning to get his bearings. "I was hoping to head to Ollivanders. My old wand just isn't wanting to work with me so I thought that I would purchase a new one." He pointed down a side street. "It is this way right?" At Mr. Weasley's nod he smiled. "Ah, good! I think I am finally starting to learn the layout of the streets again."

Mr. Weasley laughed, "Yes, they are rather confusing when you don't visit very often. The first time I brought my twins to pick up their supplies for Hogwarts; they disappeared practically the moment I opened the archway. Found them an hour later in Knocturne Alley trying to barter some bloke out of a cursed mirror to prank their sister with."

Arthur laughed, although he himself had had a few accidents over the years dealing with cursed mirrors that weren't anything to laugh about. "They sound like a wild pair! How many children do you have?" Mr. Weasley smiled, the look in his eyes suddenly far away. His back straightened slightly and his chin raised. If he had been a muggle Arthur would have expected him to whip out a wallet full of snapshots. The man was clearly very proud of his children.

"My oldest is, of course, Bill. Like I mentioned he works as a curse breaker for Gringotts. He's living in Egypt right now, they have some sort of archeological dig going on. Unearthing some ancient Egyptian wizards tomb and the like. Lot's of curses to break. Molly, my dear wife, is terrified that he is going to miss something someday and get eaten by a mummy."

Arthur's smile wilted slightly. He had never understood peoples desire about disturbing the resting places of the dead. He was dreadfully glad that dear old Arthur's resting place was on an unplotable island, to muggles and wizards alike. He wouldn't want the poor fellow to have to wake up any earlier than he had too.

"My second eldest is Charlie. He's a dragon keeper in Romania." His face turned a little ashen. "Don't really need to explain what Molly worries about for that one. Just last week we received a letter that one of his colleagues had an arm bitten off by their female Hebridean Black." They winced in unison. If the poor lad survived the initial bite, he was going to have a hell of a time re-growing that arm. "My third lad Percy," he stooped a little, casting his gaze around. "Well, he recently got a job with the Ministry and we haven't seen him much since Dumbledore's announcement. Blasted fool of a boy." Arthur's brows furrowed. Dumbledore had made an announcement? He opened his mouth to ask what it had been about but Mr. Weasley had already plowed on ahead.

"Fred and George are our twins. Brilliant boys both of them. Absolutely brilliant! But I'm afraid that they have a rather large sense of humor. It tends to get them into trouble quite a lot. They are going to be in the Seventh Year at Hogwarts this year. I wish that they would focus harder on their NEWTS rather than their pranks." Mr. Weasley's face was a mixture of pride and frustration. Arthur wondered if he would meet the twins, if he ever did he would have to try to straighten them up a little.

"Ron is my youngest boy. He'll be a Fifth Year, he just got his prefects badge in the mail this morning." His eyes were shining with pride. "That's actually what brought me to the Alley this morning. I stopped by to pick him up a small present."

The crowds parted before them and in the distance Arthur could see the old battered sign of Ollivanders Wand Shop. Inside his pockets his fingers were twitching and he found himself distracted from his new friend. Would a new wand help him control his magic any better?

"Ginny, well Ginerva but everyone calls her Ginny, she's our youngest and our only girl. Molly loves all the boys dearly. But she had always wanted a girl, I was terrified that she was never going to have one. But then there was little Ginny!" Mr. Weasley opened the door and a bell rang deep in the recesses of the shop. "She's going to be in her Fourth Year."

"Ah! Well if it isn't Arthur Weasley! Twelve inches, rowan wood with a dragon heart string core. Very good for conjuring and defense." An old man was making his into the front room of the shop. Arthur had never seen Mr. Ollivander in person before, but he had no doubt that this man was him. His hair was grey and balding on the top of his head, he carried with him a tape measure. "I trust that it is doing well." His piercing eyes transferred towards Arthur and he felt himself shudder slightly. Those eyes seemed to peer right through him. "So I can only assume that it is your companion here that is in need of my services."

Arthur nodded, regaining his composure and stepped forward, offering the man his hand as Mr. Weasley took a seat on a short rather crushed looking stool.

"You assume correctly Sir. My name is Arthur Kirkland and I am in the market for a new wand." Mr. Ollivander completely ignored the offered hand. Choosing instead to drag Arthur into the center of the small room and begin taking his measurements. The tape measurer floated beside him, stretching out to measure both of his arms individually then his entire arm span together. When it switched to measuring his legs Mr. Ollivander began pulling boxes of wands off of the multitude of shelves. It dropped away when he opened the first box, presenting the wand inside to Arthur.

"Here we are Mr. Kirkland, give this one a wave. Ten and a half inches, rosewood, unicorn tail hair core." Arthur grasped it and gave it a quick wave. But he quickly shook his head at the same time Mr. Ollivander snatched it back.

"Hmm, seems like rosewood won't be cutting it. Try this one, twelve inches, ash wood, phoenix feather core." Arthur reached for this one as well, but shook his head even as his fingers brushed against it. Mr. Ollivander cackled cheerfully. "Well, well! A man who knows what he needs! Not often I see a man like that." He quickly put the boxes back down and dragged over a tall ladder, climbing up to the very top shelf.

"I have a particularly stubborn wand as well, it certainly knows what it wants and no one that I've presented it to before have stood up to the challenge." He blew the dust away from the old box as he climbed down the ladder, then gently lifted the lid. "Thirteen inches, royal oak. Two cores twisted together she has! Unicorn tail hair and hair from a lions mane." He handled the wand gently as he drew it from the box. "An unusual combination since lions don't normally have magic. But this particular lion was a very strong witches familiar." Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat. Hair from a lions mane twisted together with a unicorn tail hair? That seemed a perfect combination for him. Surely it couldn't be a coincidence.

With great reverence Mr. Ollivander handed the wand over and Arthur could feel the warmth shoot through his fingertips. With a smile and a laugh he flicked the wand three times. Blue, red, and white sparks shot out like fireworks, exploding against the ceiling to form the Union Jack. From his seat on the short stool Mr. Weasley gaped.

"Excellent form Mr. Kirkland! Absolutely excellent!" Mr. Ollivander clapped his hands together gleefully as he looked at Arthur. The piercing gaze had only intensified and Arthur wondered for a moment if this man knew who he was. But the moment passed. With a few more words about the care of the wand and a quick exchange of coins he and Mr. Weasley were again out on the street.

They strolled away from the shop and Mr. Weasley steered them casually down another street. In the distance Arthur could see a window with several young girls and boys gathered outside of the window. "Now, if you don't mind I need to pop into Quality Quidditch Supplies while we're here. Where were you needing to go next?"

They stepped around the crowd outside and into the crowded shop. Almost immediately the two men were separated. Arthur stretched to his full height in an attempt to search for Mr. Weasley over the other shoppers and, not for the first time, cursed his lack of landmass. Eventually he gave up, instead choosing to browse the shop as he searched for the exit.

The last year's Quidditch World Cup had been the first Quidditch match he had seen in ages. Watching, he had been astounded by the leap in broomstick technology. It had also been the first time in ages that his brothers and sister had invited him to join them for anything. He suspected the only reason they had was to shove the fact in his face that it was Erin's team playing and not his. But they had invited him nonetheless and he had been glad, though weary. He had to keep a close eye on Duncan to be sure that _he _wouldn't be the one to go flying if a brawl broke out. The Scot was always looking for a chance at revenge.

Mr. Weasley found him as he was eyeing the latest and fastest model of racing broom, the Firebolt. The display model was beautiful, the wood shiny and all of the bristles straight. The name shone on the shaft, emblazoned in gold. However, the price tag made him cringe and step away. Mr. Weasley caught him by an elbow as he lead them through the crowd and Arthur resisted the urge to chuckle. He hadn't been treated like a child in a very long time.

"Sorry about that, I just wanted to pick up a small present. I should have expected that they would be busy this close to September. All the students are stocking up on supplies for the school year." Mr. Weasley's purchase was hidden in a small bag that swung by his side. As they walked Arthur cast a quick glance inside, a new pair of Keepers gloves. "Where to now then?"

"Oh, I was wanting to send an Owl. Is there a post office around that I could use? It is important that I get a letter to Albus Dumbledore as soon as possible." Mr. Weasley stopped dead in his tracks. He starred at Arthur, mouth agape. Arthur froze. "Is there something wrong? Nothing has happened to Albus has it?"

Mr. Weasley shook his head. Quickly glancing around to be sure that no one was near enough to eavesdrop before he pulled Arthur close and quietly whispered. "No, nothing is wrong, Albus is fine. It's just an odd coincidence you see. Tonight, Dumbledore and a few other friends are going to be joining my family for dinner." For the first time that day Mr. Weasley's eyes held a hint of distrust. He managed to quickly vanish it, but this new smile seemed faked. Arthur frowned, confused. The day had gone so well, but now it seemed that Mr. Weasley suspected him of something.

"I suppose that it would be much quicker if you were to join us for dinner as well. Rather than sending an owl. Why don't you return to the Leaky Cauldron and floo over. Just call out 'The Burrow' and it should take you right there. I'll apparate home and tell my wife to expect one more."

With a blink and a pop Mr. Weasley was gone. Arthur sighed, glancing around the Alley, searching for the route back to the Leaky Cauldron. Despite his suspicion Mr. Weasley had invited him into his home. Had he disregarded his fears? Or was this simply a case of keep your friends close but your enemies closer.

* * *

**A/N**: I'd like to thank everyone that read and reviewed! Your kind words have really helped spurn me onwards with this story. I hope that you can continue to enjoy it. There were a few questions asked in the reviews and I'd like to answer them here.

Why Severus? Simply because I love Sev. Since the beginning of Harry Potter he has been my favorite character and I think that he deserves some love. Even if he isn't exactly welcoming of it at first. *winks*

As far as I know Malfoy is a french name. At least, I'm making it french if it isn't. It roughly translates to Bad Faith, which fits them spectacularly.

Will the other nations be appearing? Well of course! I fully intend to have Arthur pestered all through the year by his colleagues.

**EDIT**: Lydiacatfish! Thank you so much for your quick correction. I have no idea why I was thinking Virginia. /facepalm


	4. At The Burrow

**Chapter Three**

**At the Burrow**

With a growing feeling of impending doom Arthur slowly let his feet lead him back in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. The nation couldn't figure out where he had gone wrong! He had been nice, polite, a regular gentlemen. Hell! He was England! His people were supposed to be born with a built in trust of him. What could have happened to make Mr. Weasley distrust his nation? If the crowds hadn't already been parting due to his curious clothes; the aura of depression that surrounded him now would have certainly deterred any attempt at contact that would have been made.

He was England, Mr. Weasley's nation. Their day together had been full of calm emotions, peaceful feelings and inspiring loyalty. Not distrust! Maybe it was because Mr. Weasley was a wizard and the wizarding world in England was almost completely seceded from the muggle world of England. Arthur sighed, both hands deep inside his pockets, his new wand in position up his sleeve. He barely resisted the overwhelming urge to kick a rock, or a puppy.

Everything had been going swimmingly until Arthur had mentioned his need to send an owl to Albus. He frowned as he felt something twist inside his chest, rising to tickle irritatingly at the back of his throat. Had something happened to Albus? Had the man done something wrong? Mr. Weasley had mentioned an announcement. With a curse Arthur wished he had been able to ask Mr. Weasley what it had been about!

As the large archway came into sight Arthur picked up his pace. Sure it was an odd coincidence that he and Mr. Weasley had become acquainted on that same day Arthur found himself needing to contact Albus. It was just another coincidence that Albus just so happened to be joining the Weasley family for supper. But that was all coincidence! Or possibly fickle fate, playing with the nation's life. Did Mr. Weasley suspect it to be something else? Something sinister?

The tavern was just as dimly lit and smoky as it had been when Arthur passed through earlier. Arthur looked sullenly about the room for the fireplace. In his depression he was finding it difficult to ignore the disturbed glances and rude whispers. Had he left the wizarding world alone too long? It didn't seem like any of these wizards felt the almost undetectable feeling of kinship they should have felt while in their nations presence. Did none of them feel the loyalty he was supposed to inspire? Their pride as Britons?

He shuffled up to the bar and signaled to capture the toothless Tom's attention. The barkeeper flicked his wand, leaving a mug and the dishcloth cleaning it floating in midair as he approached the sullen nation.

"Is 'ere somthin' I can help you with Sir? Would you like a drink? A room?"

Arthur shook his head and his spirits raised some from the barkeepers kindness. Sure, it was more the man trying to coerce him into spending money rather than ignoring his oddness. But it felt nice nonetheless.

"Unfortunately not at this time. I was looking for the fireplace. Do you charge to use the floo?"

Tom shook his head in a negative as he pointer the shorter man towards the fireplace. Ahead of him were a few of the wizards in fancy robes. They couldn't seem to decide where they wanted to go. After them was a mother and her rambunctious young son, who wasted no time and stepped directly into the fire as soon as the men were clear.

Arthur stepped up to the fireplace when his turn came. He reached up onto the top of the mantle to grab a handful of floo powder as he had seen the others do before him. He paused, just outside the range of the flickering flames, running the sooty powder between his fingers. He remembered floo travel well enough. He remembered how much he dreaded it as well.

Arthur sighed. What would be waiting for him at the other side? A cold reception? Or would Albus have already arrived? He glanced towards the door. It would be so easy to step outside and hail a taxi to take him home. To just forget this whole going back to school business. But his frown became a scowl as Denmark's laughing face crossed his mind. He threw the powder into the fire, not even blinking as the orange flames flared green. He took a deep breath and stepped into the hearth.

"The Burrow!"

Arthur's world began to spin out of control. He felt himself spinning out of London and out across the countryside. His lungs were begging for air but he refused to take a breath. Choking on soot was never pleasant. He squeezed his eyes shut as he began to feel nauseous. Other wizards traveled like this all the time, Arthur could handle it! He felt the rotation slowing and the nation spread his feet slightly, to balance himself. He'd be damned if he fell out of the Weasley's fireplace like a fool.

The spinning stopped facing into a large ramshackle kitchen filled with people. Arthur stepped from the fireplace as gracefully as possible, brushing the soot from his uniform as he took a shallow breath. After a deeper breath, to compose himself as well as take in oxygen, Arthur smiled and looked up to greet Mr. Weasley and his friends. He was slightly taken aback to find himself held at wand point.

Seven witches and wizards stood in the kitchen, including Mr. Weasley and the red haired woman that could only be his wife Molly. Two other women, one younger with bright pink hair and a severe-looking older woman with her black hair pulled into a tight bun, stood beside her. Next to Mr. Weasley were three other men. A shabby looking man who's brown hair, despite his young appearance, was sprinkled with grey stood next to an shorter grizzled man covered in scars. Arthur found it hard not to stare at him, he was missing a leg as well as a large chunk from his nose. A false eye rolled madly in it's socket. Behind these two stood the third, a tall black man with broad shoulders and a small golden hoop earring in one ear. Straightening his back the nations cleared his throat, staring at the seven with an eyebrow slightly raised.

"Well, I apologize if I've arrived early. If you'd like I could leave and return at a better time."

The scarred man threw back his head with a bark of laughter. The false eye ceased it's crazed rolling and focused on Arthur with an unnerving focus.

"Well lookie here! Arthur's brought us a comedian! Sorry jester, but I'm afraid you aren't going to be able to leave until Dumbledore clears your story." The man moved forward, false eye trained on the sleeve that held Arthur's wand. "Why don't you hand over your wand and we'll all settle in for a much more comfortable wait."

Arthur's jaw clenched tightly as he pushed his shoulders back and held his head high. Who did this man think he was? Insulting him this way, as if he were an intruder to be weary of. He had been invited! As for asking him to surrender his weapon, ridiculous!

"I will do no such thing! Why I have half a mind to simply leave and send Albus an owl as I had originally intended! What is the meaning of this Mr. Weasley? Unless I've been terribly mistaken, I was invited into your home as a guest, not a prisoner!"

Mr. Weasley had the decency to flush with embarrassment, but he kept his wand steady and raised. "I am sorry for his Mr. Kirkland. You do seem like a pleasant fellow, but there's no being too careful these days. And your presence just seems to be too much of a coincidence."

Arthur frowned. There it was again, that feeling deep in his chest. He raised a hand and rubbed at it unconsciously. It felt like a sickness taking hold. The shabby man stepped forward his wand raised in position to cast any of multiple spells. Arthur met his gaze defiantly.

"I apologize Mr. Kirkland, but if you do not hand over your wand peacefully then I am going to have to take it from you by force."

He couldn't help it, Arthur laughed. Right in the shabby mans face. The nation spread his feet, placing his fists on his hips in a haughty pose. With his head slightly tilted and an old familiar cocky grin on his face Arthur could almost feel the ghost of an ostrich feather tickling at the back of his neck.

"You will take my wand from me? By force! Boy, I would like to see you try. It has been attempted before and the results have not always been pleasant for the fools who tried."

Arthur drew upon the old magics; powers that had been breathed by the land since the beginning of time. Magics that gave him and other nations their lives and human bodies. Slowly the lights of the room flickered and dimmed as a faint scent of brine filled the air. Every one of the seven, save the scarred old man, took an involuntary step back and stumbled when the room began to rock on imaginary waves.

The false eye was once again rolling madly, taking in the entire room, as it's owner raised his wand, a spell ready on his lips. Arthur was beginning to suspect that the eye had magical properties of it's own. At the barest hint of a thought the royal oak wand jumped into his hand. He could feel the eagerness pulsing, barely contained, inside the wood. The wand wanted to battle, to conquer, and Arthur wondered for a moment when it had been made. Had it been during a time that he also thirsted for conquest? If he had found this wand back then how differently would history have played out?

But the moment quickly past. Blazing red stunners shot past him as the scarred man attacked. Sidestepping the spells was easy, centuries of swordplay training his footwork to near perfection. Another spell ruffled his hair as it flew by. The others were beginning to regain their footing, both women quickly began firing spells of their own. Arthur thought quickly for a spell to use that would not damage anyone, but suitably distract them.

"Tarantallegra!"

The spell was intended to force the victim into an insanely quick paced dance, like he had seen Feliciano and Romano perform more than once in the past. At least that was what was supposed to happen. With a shower of purple sparks a charm of finches burst from the end of Arthur's wand, chirping madly as they searched for a way out of the kitchen. Arthur and everyone else in the room paused for a moment, stunned, and Arthur's face flamed red with embarrassment.

How could that have happened? Wasn't this new wand supposed to fix that? The others quickly pulled themselves from their stupor, raising their wands again with fresh spells on their lips. Arthur, mortified, contemplated simply running back into the fireplace. Maybe if he burned himself badly enough and pretended to be dead they would toss out his corpse. Then he could simply return home and pretend that this little accident had never happened.

"My goodness, what is going on here?"

Arthur froze. The lights flared abruptly back to life as the scent and rocking motions vanished. Lowering his wand he slowly turned to look in the direction the voice had come from. It sounded familiar, though it had been near fifty years since the last time he had heard it and the man seemed to have aged considerably in those years.

Albus Dumbledore had been over one hundred years old when he had defeated Grindelwald, but in Arthur's memory he had still seemed to be in the prime of his life. The last fifty years had changed that. His beard and hair had grown long and the salt and pepper color had turned silvery-white. His skin was still pale, though his cheeks had a rosy blush. His powder blue eyes twinkled from behind the same half-moon shaped spectacles he had worn since he became a professor at Howarts. Arthur couldn't help but smile as those eyes widened slightly with shock as they settled upon him.

"Hello Albus, it's been a long time."

_The victory parties were everywhere, spilling out of taverns into the streets and lighting up homes like it was Christmas time. Arthur Kirkland weaved through the revelers dancing outside of the Hogs Head pub, eyes searching for a particular figure. He had never been formally introduced to Albus Dumbledore, a man quickly becoming renowned as the most powerful wizard of the century. A few times they had acknowledged each other across a crowded room but the two had never shared more than a few, brief, words._

_And that was all Arthur's doing of course. He had first met Albus Dumbledore in 1855, when the boy began his first year at Hogwarts . Even at the tender age of eleven he was showing tremendous potential. Arthur had been visiting the current headmaster at the time they met. As he was leaving he passed by young Albus in the entrance hall and, for barely a moment, their sleeves brushed. In that moment Arthur could see a vision of the future. Albus had continued on to his next class, laughing with his friends and ignoring the odd man who stopped to openly stare at him in the hallway. _

_Sometimes, when a nation first meets a person, they simply know that said person will go on to do great things. Will be a hero. Arthur had a vision that day and he had known that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore would be such a hero. And now, that vision had come to pass._

_For years Gelert Grindelwald had been pulling the strings behind the Nazi parties conquest of Europe. With the dark wizard defeated the Allies had already seen a drastic change in the muggle Nazi leader. Without the wizard pulling his strings Adolf Hitler's mental instability was beginning to show in his command. They were going to end the war soon and Arthur knew that it was all thanks to Albus Dumbledore. _

_The nation peered into the pub, searching for his hero. A man behind the counter caught his attention for a moment, but it wasn't Albus. Aberforth Dumbledore had charmed a row of mugs to float in front of the open tap as he called out that, tonight, all drinks were on the house. Arthur sighed, stepping out of the way as a pair of drunken revelers stumbled past. He turned up the path towards Hogwarts, the castle was closed for the beginning of summer term but it was as good a place to search as any._

_The road to the castle was surprisingly quiet. Arthur couldn't help but smile at the tranquility of the night. For now he was aloud to celebrate, tonight he would congratulate his hero for his victory. But tomorrow he would return to the front lines, the wizards war might be over for now but the muggle war continued. Silently he slipped through the open gates, he passed the Quidditch pitch and the small shack where the young new gameskeeper lived. He walked beside the castles walls, trailing a hand over the cool and mossy stone almost as ancient as himself as he headed towards the cliffs over the lake._

_And there he stood, alone, quietly thinking as he watched the moonlight reflect off the surface of the lake below. Arthur's footsteps drew his attention as he approached. Albus Dumbledore turned, looking him over with a bright smile. Arthur couldn't help but return that smile and joined the other._

"_Ah, you are Mr. Kirkland correct? I'm afraid that we've never had the chance to be formally introduced."_

_Arthur nodded. Well, if Albus wanted a formal introduction he surely deserved one._

"_That's correct, my name is Arthur Kirkland. Though it is only one that I am known by."_

_Albus quirked an eyebrow, his eyes watching as the giant squid raised it's tentacles to splash heavily at the surface of the water. Occasionally in the darkness of the water the flash of a mermaid's fin could be seen._

"_Oh? And what other names might you go by then?"_

_Arthur grinned, glancing at the taller man over his shoulder._

"_If I were to tell you all of the names I've answered to over my lifetime we would be here all night. You'll no doubt think me a little mad when I tell you. I hope that you won't hold that against me."_

_Albus chuckled. He folded his arms into the long sleeves of his robe and turned to face Arthur, moonlight flashing on his spectacles. The nation was glad to see that he appeared more amused than anything. In these days it was so easy to fall too suspicion. True Grindelwald was now locked away in a dungeon but it was unlikely that the Aurors would ever round up all of his followers. Then there were the extremely unsettling rumors on the air that the dark wizard had been training an apprentice._

"_It's not necessarily a bad thing to be thought a little mad every now and then. It certainly allows one to get away with things that one could never if they were purely sane."_

_Both men chuckled, watching the moon, the mermaids and the giant squid dance across the water far beneath them. Arthur's laughter was overcome by a coughing fit. He hunched over, his hands on his knees feeling as if he was about to hack up a lung. He gratefully took the handkerchief Albus offered. Soon the fit passed and the handkerchief came away, covered in what appeared to be black tar. Arthur mumbled an apology, searching his pockets for his wand to clean the handkerchief. But Albus waved away his apology taking the cloth gingerly and examining it carefully for a moment before using a cleaning charm._

"_Have you been to see a MediWizard for that yet?"_

_Arthur shook his head, grimacing slightly at the bile taste left behind in his mouth. He would be happy when this damnable war was finally over._

"_No, I'm afraid not even a MediWizard would be able to help me. I am not ailed by an illness per say. When the Allies finally defeat the Axis powers and this war we have been fighting is truly settled, then I will be begin to heal."_

_Albus watched him, eyes twinkling madly. Arthur turned, finally regaining his composure, and made a half bow from the waist._

"_Albus Dumbledore, my formal name is The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. However I prefer to be known simply as England. I'm am here to personally express my gratitude to you for what you have done for the Allied forces. You may not realize it now, but by your actions we should have the Muggle war ended soon. Hopefully by the end of this year."_

_Arthur glanced up into his saviors face. He didn't expect Albus to believe him. If the wizard pressed the issue Arthur would be able to prove his identity beyond a shadow of a doubt, but he didn't believe Albus would press him for such proof._

"_I see! Well I can definitely see why some people might believe you to be a little mad. Who in their right mind would want to take responsibility for a whole nation, let alone a kingdom."_

_Arthur nodded, rising from the bow with a half cocked smirk on his lips._

"_Yes, no one in their right mind would accept this job. Thankfully Nations are not given a choice, we are born into this position as our civilizations are born. We live until our civilization and people die and during our lifetimes we try to govern them to the best of our abilities."_

_Albus nodded, chuckling lightly._

"_Headmaster Dippet complains all the time to the staff about how difficult it is to manage a school filled with children. I can only imagine that governing a nation full of people would be similar, though on a much grander scale."_

_Arthur chuckled at the understatement for a few moments, but it was once again time to be serious._

"_You sacrificed a great many things to do what you did Albus Dumbledore."_

_Albus only sighed, his eyes once again trained on the surface of the lake._

"_All over England, all over Europe, they are hailing you as the greatest wizard of the century. You'll probably never have more than a few moments peace for the rest of your life. Everything you do, everything you say will be analyzed by friends and enemies alike."_

_Arthur could see Albus' shoulders tensing and sighed. He hadn't even reached the kicker yet._

"_But not even that compares to what else you have sacrificed. The what could have been."_

_The muscles along the jaw tensed, grinding pearly white teeth together. Arthur could see the fabric of a gaudy purple sleeve ripple as Albus clenched a hand around his wand._

"_I'm sorry that you had to face Gindelwald. I know that it is never easy to face a loved one on the field of combat. Especially when you stand on opposite sides."_

_Albus Dumbledore finally lost control of his finely crafted and honed patience. His wand ripped out of his robe and the moonlight was obscured by the brilliant red aura surrounding the wizard. Despite this being the outcome he had been prodding at Arthur suffered a twinge of uncertainty. _

_He had been killed by wizards in the past. When he was still small. But none of them had anywhere near the caliber of power of Albus Dumbledore. It was possible that if Albus Dumbledore wanted him dead, he might just stay that way. But when the wizard lashed out it was not at the nation beside him._

_A blazing bolt of red lighting sped across the lake in the blink of an eye. It struck a tree on the opposite shore with a crack like thunder as the wood splintered into millions of pieces. Smoke rose from the charred remains of the stump. Arthur fought to keep his relief from showing on his face. It would have been dreadfully painful to come back to live as a smoking pile of charred flesh._

"_You say that you are here to express the gratitude of the Allied nations for what I've done?"_

_Arthur nodded, drawing his own handkerchief to wipe away the tears freely flowing down the others face._

"_I left the front lines so that I could come see you and offer my condolences as well. Tomorrow afternoon I am stationed to return to the front lines, but until then I am at your disposal. England owes you a great deal and I will do my best to accomplish anything that you ask of me."_

_Albus caught him by the wrist, lowering their hands slowly as he looked his nation in the eye._

"_I do not know if I believe that you are who you say you are. But I will be grateful in turn, if you could help me forget. If only for tonight."_

_Arthur smiled kindly and used his captured wrist to draw the other close._

"_That Sir, is something I can most definitely do."_

**A/N: For those of you who believe Albus to be OOC towards the end of the flashback. **Allow me to explain why I wrote him that way. It is my believe that during their younger years while living in Godric's Hollow, Albus and Gelert Grindelwald were lovers. I don't believe that Grindelwald loved Albus, he was probably just seducing him to have all that power on his side. But I believe that Albus really loved Grindelwald, despite his betrayal. Albus was putting on a brave face for the wizarding world while holding in his own personal grief. When Arthur poked him it just burst out and it needed an outlet (or a bandage) that Arthur was happy to be.

Also I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. Every time I see a new review in my inbox I do a little dance for joy. I'd like to assure everyone that I have no intention of letting this fic die. I just write very, very slowly. And for that I apologize. I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter! I know I did.


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